Trish and Thomas were beginning to notice something strange happening on the outskirts of the Hostettler property. It started on the other side of the main road that cut through it. First it was a single camper van. One became two. Two became four. Each day more and more showed up in vans, campers, and tents until it was practically a small village.
Then one day she looked over to see that they had put up a big sign facing the property. She looked at it through her telescope necklace.
“What’s it say?” Thomas asked from his usual seat on her shoulder.
“I’m almost embarrassed to say… It reads: We Love You Goddess.” She signed in front of her, her hands working quickly. Thomas had gotten very good at reading sign language backwards. “Do you think it’s people from that website?”
“We do love to worship our big women.” Thomas chuckled and stroked her shoulder lovingly.
“Oh wait, something else is happening…” She said, her brow furrowing. Through the looking glass she saw some of her father’s men had pulled up in black SUVs and were shouting at them, the residents were resisting and shouting things back at them.
“We should probably let them handle it.” Thomas said, patting Trish’s neck to try and signal her to turn her back to it. Under normal circumstances that would have been her first instinct. But you’re a giant, Trish. What do you have to be scared of?
“Maybe I can help…” She mused, taking a step forward and squinting her eyes to see what was happening better. The residents of the tent city were scrambling away from the security guards, and waving their hands over to her. In the chaos, one of the security guards shoved one of them to the ground. That was all Trish needed to spur her forward.
The commotion below was quickly silenced by the thudding footfalls of the approaching Trish. Everyone stopped in their tracks to behold her approaching. The security team was as used to the presence of the giant as anyone, but they rarely had her attention like this. Seeing her approach, her mouth drawn into a serious frown, was withering to them. Their leader, Gary, felt like a kid about to be scolded by his teacher or his mom. He unhanded the bum he was currently grabbing by the wrist and turned to face her, setting his jaw to prepare for the confrontation. Trish crossed the road with a single step, and planted her feet on the outskirts of the village. She loomed large there, pausing a minute to regard the people at her ankles, then squatted down so she could communicate with the little people.
“Hey, what’s going on down there?” She demanded, whispering in her speaking voice, causing the people below her to stammer and stumble. Without warning, the residents began rushing out of the tents and past the security guards. The legion of hippies swarmed around her, the sudden rush causing her to flinch and lose her balance. All forty eight tons of the woman fell down on her butt, shaking the ground and knocking nearly everyone else off their feet. Thomas struggled to maintain his balance, but overcorrected and ended up tumbling forward. He would have fallen all the way to the ground were it not for the shelf of his fiancee’s tits catching him. He rolled down the soft flesh, and began to slide down the crevasse of her cleavage, the massive weight of each tit immobilizing him.
All the car alarms of all the vehicles were triggered by the impact, making the energy in the area all the more frantic.
“Ah Christ!” Gary from security swore once he recovered. He started giving orders to the security team to continue their harassment of the hippies. The hippies had recovered too, and were swarming around Trish undeterred by her accidental show of force. Soon they were struggling against the grabbing of the security guards trying to peel them off of her. Before Trish could react the security guards were taking out tasers. Punches were being thrown and people started screaming.
“EVERYBODY STOP!” Trish boomed, raising her head up to yell it into the sky. People obeyed immediately, freezing in place and falling dead silent. The only sound now were the various shrill car alarms. Trish’s first point of order was to make sure Thomas was ok. She fished him out of her boobs and brought him back onto her shoulder. She held her finger up for him to hold till he caught his breath. She looked down at the little people gathered around her like little gerbils.
“Ok, here’s what’s going to happen.” She said, voice falling to a stern whisper that still rivaled the sounding car alarms. “Everyone is going to go to their cars and shut them off.” She pushed her foot forward into the crowd, to part the two factions on either side of her leg. “And then everyone is going to come back here and we’re going to have a nice, calm conversation.”
No one dared to move for a moment. The hippies were the first to react, speaking affirmations like “Yes Goddess.” Gary then took charge of the security team, moving back to their SUVs. As the crowd backed away from her she looked under herself to make sure that everyone had retreated, and then crossed her legs under her.
“Keep on my shoulder, things look dangerous down there.” She signed to Thomas. Thomas nodded, enjoying the safety of his fiancee's lofty point of view. One by one, the car alarms were silenced. People began to rejoin Trish at the front of the village. The security guards hung back to her right with their arms crossed, making sure they kept their eyes on the hippies. The hippies were to her left, many of them electing to mirror her cross legged pose. Some raised their hands and bowed their heads in praise, which made Trish blush.
“Ok…” She whispered, and then started to talk in sign language, turning her head to look at Thomas on her shoulder. They both nodded and Thomas started to speak.
“Ok, I’m going to translate for her.” He called down, keeping his eyes on his love’s hands as they signed in front of her. “She wants to know what’s happening here.”
“Trish, it’s Gary from Security.” He started, stepping forward. Trish nodded. She knew Gary. “We’re here to clear out this squatter’s village. They’re trespassing on your property.” It was technically true, the Hostettlers owned the land on both sides of the road, but the land the village was on was not currently being used for anything.
“My Goddess…” another voice started. It was an older woman, maybe late 40’s but it was always so hard to tell how old crunchy people are. Sometimes their sun-damaged skin aged them faster, sometimes their stress free life stopped them from showing their true years. Trish was already starting to shake her head. She was not a goddess. Trish raised a hand to silence her, and then started to sign.
“She says that she isn’t a Goddess, she’s just Patricia.” (the name sign that they had decided on for Trish was the sign for the letter P, then the sign for a skyscraper). The hippies accepted the words as if they were a divine revelation, bowing their heads and raising their hands to her. “Just Patricia” they intoned. “Yes, she is Just.” Trish looked down to Thomas and widened her eyes as if to ask, ‘are you seeing this shit?’
Gary stepped forward. “Honestly, we can handle it, Trish. Why don’t you head back to the ranch with Thomas?” He suggested.
“Please, no my Goddess, we have traveled from far and wide to be here with you. Please, Just Patricia. Grant us mercy and the benefit of your presence.” They nearly wept. Gary rolled his eyes and stepped forward to continue his work, but Trish lowered her hand to make a wall between Gary and the woman. Gary took a few steps back, reminded of just how truly large she was.
Thomas gave Trish a look with a cocked eyebrow, and she just shrugged and signed to him.
“Really?” He asked, incredulous. Trish tilted her eyes up, reconsidering whatever it was she had decided, and then nodded assuredly.
“Ok...” He said, shaking his head and turning to address Gary. “Trish says that she wants them to be able to stay for tonight and to go tell her dad it’s ok.”
Cheers from the worshippers. Gary opened his mouth to protest, but didn’t say anything. Trish was looking at him with a tilted head and puppy dog eyes. Christ, big ol’ bleeding heart, he thought. He looked to the hippies fanatically bowing to the over fifty foot tall woman, then back up at her. They probably couldn’t hurt her if they tried, she was just too damn big.
“Fine.” He said, deeming it safe. “But they have to be gone before 9 tomorrow or we will be making arrests and getting the police involved.” He said, and made a motion with his hand to signal to everyone that it was time to go.
“Oh Merciful Patricia, Oh Just Patricia! Thank you for granting us this boon!” They cried, stepping forward to bow in front of her. Several reached their hands forward to brush her crossed legs that was as a wall in front of them. Trish pushed her palms forward in the universal sign for ‘woah, slow down,’ then turned her palms up and gestured up, asking for the woman and the rest of the group to stand. They all obeyed, rising from their cross legged or bowing positions to stand in front of her. ‘They. Are. So. Cute!’ She screamed internally. She tried to push the thought down. She was no goddess, and they should not be worshiping her - no matter how flattering it was.
“She wants to know who your leader is.” Thomas translated her signs again.
“Why, you are our leader Goddess.” came a voice from the back. Trish pushed a huff of air from her nose to signal her frustration, and widened her eyes to tell them they needed a better answer than that.
“Me, my Goddess, I am the elder of this community.” The 30-40-50-60 something woman from earlier said, stepping forward. Trish gave her a polite wave, and then signed, looking to Thomas to translate again.
“She wants to know your name.”
“My name is Aloe Vera, the herb that cools and soothes.” She said, completely seriously, and put her hands in front of her face and bowed her head. Trish almost couldn’t hold it together. Her shoulders started to shake in restrained laughter, tossling Thomas. Thomas almost broke as well. There was a long silence as the two tried to regain their composure.
“Sorry.” Thomas apologized for both of them.
“For what do you apologize for, Herald of the Goddess?” That nearly sent them again. Thomas had to pull as hard as he could on Trish’s neck hair to stop them both from laughing.
“Nothing, it’s nothing.” He said, then watched carefully as Trish began to sign again. “She wants to hear about what you believe.”
And so, she told them. And it was a string of complete nonsense. They believed Trish was an ascendant goddess of the moon, sent here to balance the over abundance of masculine energy in America. Or at least some of them did. Others said she was the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe. There were dozens of people speculating, and the little emerging cult would have suffered a schism if Trish hadn’t put her palms down to signal them to stop.
And they had brought gifts, because of course they did. Trish watched as they ran into their little tents and brought out crystals and oils and crafts to form a small pile in front of her. The most unique gift was a long tie-dyed dress meant to fit the giantess, but as she held it up she could tell it was going to be very small on her. Thomas noticed as they heaped gifts in front of her and bowed, Trish was sitting up a little straighter and smiling a lot.
“Please Goddess, we have bestowed upon you our mortal tributes. Please bestow on us your blessings and wisdom.”
This time instead of shaking her head at being called a goddess, she bit her finger and gave a mischievous look to Thomas. She looked up and down the road to see if it was clear. She signed something to him, then pulled her knees up in front of her.
“You can’t be serious.” He said, whispering into her ear. Trish craned her neck and tilted her chin up, and gave him a look of superiority while biting her lips, daring him to resist her. He turned back to the crowd, shifting uncomfortably around the stiffness in his pants.
“The Goddess says to receive your blessing, prostrate yourself before her feet… and kiss them.” He said. Before he could even get the words out the crowd lurched forward as if fulfilling this dictate of hers was their only purpose in life. Trish had to resist laughing and kicking as she felt the tickling of their little mouths starting to kiss her feet. Her entire attention was focused on Thomas on her shoulder, looking down at him and seeing what he thought of it all, gently stroking his back with one finger. He was bright red, and there was noticeable bulge in his pants. She warped the finger stroking his back over his lap, and gently pushed her finger tip onto the tip of his penis.
“Enough.” She whispered down to her crowd of worshippers, and picked up a foot and started to nudge it forward, telling them to back off. Once they had gotten a safe distance from her, she gathered her gifts and rose to her feet. She planted them shoulder width apart, adopting one of Thomas’s power poses.
“You may stay here in the lands of the Goddess until the next sunrise. After that I command you to leave, spread to the four corners of the globe and do good works. Feed the hungry. Care for the sick. Shelter the homeless. Serve me by serving your fellow humans.” She boomed down. She did not wait for nor look for a response. She turned on her heels and began to make her way back to her living space.
“Why’d you do that?” Thomas asked when they got some distance away. Trish turned to look down at him with a smile.
“I did it to excite you.” She whispered and gave him a big kiss. “Don’t say it didn’t work.” She flexed her finger against his lap, feeling the stiffness there and causing Thomas to squirm against her neck. “I can feel that it worked.”
“Yeah, mission accomplished, but aren’t you worried?” He said as Trish washed her feet and ducked under the door to get into her room.
“Worried about what? You’re the one who should be worried. You might have a challenger for the position of my favorite worshiper.” She teased, still acting as the dominant goddess.
“Those were real people you were toying with Trish. They believed in you.” He pointed out.
“Oh, I’m sure it was harmless. I was just having a little fun with them.” She scoffed, setting the gifts down on her table.
“And they were so cute!” She chirped. “But not as cute as my teeny tiny Thomas. She said, pulling him off her shoulder, giving him a kiss, and tossing underhand onto the bed. She moved away from the bed and pulled her shirt over her head. She looked back over her shoulder with a mocking smile. “Or should I call you ‘Herald of the Goddess’, haha?” She laughed as she got naked and started to put on her tie-dyed gift. She was too far away for Thomas to answer, she wouldn’t be able to hear him well even if he shouted.
She pulled it over her head, clearly way too small for her. The gown was meant to be long and flowy, with a deep V in the front and a long train, instead she barely managed to stuff herself in it. Thomas heard loud rips as she tried to cram her shoulders, tits, hips, and ass into the tiny garment. The end result was a barely covered Trish, the fabric stretched to transparency over her chest, ripping slowly down the middle with each move she made. The skirt had ripped on the sides from trying to accommodate her hips and ass. The fabric of the train hung loose in front of her crotch like a loincloth.
She put her hands on her hips and made a show of huffing in frustration. “Herald.” She spoke loudly and authoritatively. “My impudent worshipers have failed to provide a garment that stands up to the Goddess’s hot body.” She turned to face the foot of the bed, adopting the same power pose she adopted when she commanded those people.
“What do you think, Herald? Shall I punish them or shall I show them mercy?” Thomas looked up at her with her dominant pose, every slight movement of her body causing the doomed garment to rip audibly against her curves.
“Mercy.” He choked out. Trish smiled and lowered herself to the bed. “I guess you will have to accept their punishment for them, then.” She smiled, and overtook her lover, getting on her hands and knees over him and pushing her chest towards him. “Your Goddess demands you tear this insulting dress off of her perfect body.”
Thomas reached up to the fabric barely containing Trish’s breasts, and started to rip at it. The weight of Trish’s boobs, each now weighing nearly a ton, spilled out of the garment and onto the bed. Trish arched her back and pushed them forward, trapping Thomas in her cleavage (on purpose this time). Thomas placed his hands on top of them and craned his neck up to look at Trish giving him a teasing smile from above as she forced Thomas to free himself from her bosom. She readjusted a few times to prolong his imprisonment, finding herself enjoying the feeling of his little hands pushing against the top of her soft breasts.
When he was finally released, Thomas climbed over her forearm and circled around to her thinnest part: her waist. Even still, he had to reach his hands up and pull himself onto the small of her back. He looked to his left, where her butt protruded up, cheeks visible through the fabric of the dress pulled tight against her wide hips. She had her feet in the air, and kicked her thirteen foot long shins girlishly. To his right, her back arched up to her shoulders covered in sheets of her brown hair. She made her shoulders appear smaller by tucking them into her chest. She shook her head to get her hair to fall over her shoulders, exposing the nape of her neck to him, then turned to look over her shoulder.
“Hurry, Herald. I cannot wait to have this tiny thing off of me.” She mocked. Thomas scrambled up the length of her spine. To Trish it felt like someone drumming their fingers up her back. When he got to the top, he scrambled to each shoulder in turn and rolled the fabric over her shoulder, a loving touch that made Trish’s heart flutter underneath her facade of dominance.
Once her shoulders were exposed he ripped the fabric just underneath her neck, and started to pull it apart, walking back down her spine. The dress fell away from her, exposing the smooth, soft skin of her back. Trish bit her lip and looked back down her shoulder at Thomas undressing her, feeling like a present being unwrapped. She wished he could do this with her normal clothes.
When he finally made it back to the small of her back, she twisted and reached her right hand back to him, scooping him up as she rolled on her back, and deposited him on her pelvis. The only part of the dress that still clung to her was wrapped around her hips, the rest hung in ribbons around her. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched the little man work his magic, pulling the dress apart and exposing her sex. Something about this game in particular was turning her on, Thomas could tell, by the smell of her rising from underneath.
His suspicions were validated when he tore the last bits of the dress from her to expose her lips glistening with wetness. She leaned forward, causing Thomas to fall off of her tilting pelvis down to land on the bed between her legs.
“That was actually kind of hot.” She admitted to Thomas as he rose back to stand. Trish was holding her ankles and looking down at him expectantly. A part of her wanted him to take her then and there, to hell with the shackles. But when he got close she noticed that the front of her slit was nearly level with her chest. She pictured her hips bucking and smearing him against the bed, and blocked him from touching her by laying her fingers across her groin at the last moment.
“Sorry.” She said, exhaling, as if she had just narrowly prevented a catastrophe. “We need the shackles.” She insisted. Thomas nodded and took a step back to let Trish restrain herself with trembling hands. When she was finally bound, Thomas tried out a new move, kicking one leg and then the other into his giant fiancee’s hole, and using his arms to push in and out of her, her slippery walls letting him glide in and out of her.
“Oh god!” Trish moaned as she felt nearly his entire body fill her gap. Thomas had to brace his arms against either side of her as she came to prevent her gripping walls from sucking him in entirely. Thomas was sure glad that he had listened to Trish about the shackles at that moment. The thought of her bringing her long fingers down to push him inside her simultaneously excited and scared the shit out of him.
Later, the two lounged in the afterglow of their act. Trish had her legs kicked up in front of her, and Thomas laid on the gentle incline near her knees, giving him a remarkable view of her naked form as they pillow talked. Trish had her arms behind her head like a pillow, her fingers playing idly with her hair.
“Were you… into that?” Thomas ventured, rubbing his hand down the thigh he was laying on. “The dominance stuff I mean.”
“I don't know… I just really love the way you react to it. It's hard to explain. Like I don't find it sexy but I think it's sexy that you like it and I can do it for you?” She blabbed on confusedly, but Thomas was pretty sure he got the gist. They had a sexual chemistry together and that chemistry was transformative for the both of them.
“And how do you feel about our size difference? I know it’s not exactly as exciting for you as it is for me.”
Trish wrinkled her nose at him and freed a hand to prod at him roughly, shoving her finger into his armpit to tickle him. Thomas tried and failed to block her intruding fingers.
“Ugh. You’re such a therapist.” She teased. “Can’t you take my loud moans as a sign that I’m enjoying myself?” She pressed the middle and index fingers of her left hand against his shoulders, pinning him to her legs. Then with her right hand’s index finger, gently started to rub his flaccid penis, willing it to grow hard for her, and it obeyed unquestioningly.
“And besides…” She said, slowly running her fingertip down the length of his shaft in a way that agonized Thomas. “I get to be my dream guy’s dream girl. What is there not to love?”
“So you like being big?” he gasped, struggling to utter words and speak coherently as she toyed with him.
“Like I said: I'm big. You're small. I love having sex with you. Those are the facts. Squirt for me, little man.” She ordered, and that was all Thomas needed for him to shoot his load ten feet down to Trish’s stomach. She retracted the finger she was using to play with him, and wiped up the small wet spot from her skin. She gave him loving, prolonged eye contact as she licked the salt drop off the tip of her finger with a smile.